Unbreak
by v2point0
Summary: Transformers: Prime. Breakdown and Knock Out dealing with the aftermath of the MECH incident. Slash or not, your call.


Well, it's the latest TF fanfic/art phase now: write/draw KO's reaction to Breakdown's return from MECH's clutches. I decided I'd take my spin on the scenario.

**Title**: Unbreak  
><strong>Rating<strong>: G  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: nothing really, slashy?; spoilers for TF:P episode "Operation: Breakdown"  
><strong>Summary<strong>: _Transformers: Prime_. Breakdown and Knock Out dealing with the MECH incident's aftermath.  
><strong>Notes<strong>: gdi i was trying to avoid writing fics but what are you gonna do  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I own nothing.

* * *

><p>Breakdown could feel faint tremors ripple through his plating, his very insides. They were nothing excruciating; bumps and bruises in comparison. But he knew that the extent of his damage, the mere amount of pain it would cause him had his sensors not been offlined... He was still too afraid to online them; if he could feel something now, he was sure the pain would be phenomenal with the receptors active.<p>

It took a handful of the Eradicons to lift and fly him back to base. They skimmed under radar, where Megatron's eyes were blind, taking an entrance deliberately away from the bridge. The door opened as soon as they touched down, and Starscream glared back at the wounded, worn-out Decepticon, the way the Eradicons stepped aside to relax their strained limbs. "Had you accommodated yourself with flight abilities," he sneered, "there would have been a chance this never happened. You might have had the speed to run from your... captives."

Breakdown didn't say anything, refusing to take the rise. He valued Starscream only because Megatron did. If the tyrant wanted nothing to do with the smarmy, smug Seeker, he would have gladly broke him in half. Instead, he nodded and headed toward the door. But just before he could enter, a long, thin arm shot out, blocking his way. Breakdown blinked then looked to Starscream, his red optics threatening.

"Remember what I said," Starscream growled lowly, "not. A word. To _anyone_." He spit the word out with disgust. "You keep your story as I have written it, do you understand?"

Breakdown scowled. "Yes, Commander Starscream."

The Seeker loomed in closer. "You let even so much as one _syllable_ slip about any of this..." he trailed off, his claws digging deep, audio deafening scars along the wall. There was nothing more to be said. Starscream was not near as brutal and strong as Megatron, perhaps not even compared to himself, but those who underestimated Starscream in the past more often than not wound up missing or dead. The other mech nodded silently; Starscream eyed his face, scarred and missing an optic before retracting his arm and stepping aside.

Breakdown waited for an affirmative nod before heading inside. Only a few steps in before Starscream turned from his Eradicons and said, all professional and oily, "Make sure you come back to clean your mess once you're patched up." He clicked nails toward the floor. "You're leaking."

* * *

><p>Breakdown's presence did not surprise anyone.<p>

He had passed a few drones, but they said nothing. They didn't even acknowledge him with a look. Rather they were in on Starscream's plan, or they simply didn't care, he didn't know. It was probably the latter; Breakdown had a hard time believing Starscream could earn that many sympathizers.

Still, he wondered. Was being ignored more embarrassing than being regarded with shock and awe at his return? Did they think him competent, able to break free, thus they were not surprised... Or were they simply disgusted? Silently judging him for having gotten himself into such a mess - with lowlife _humans_ for that matter. Decepticons cared for others, rare as it was, but he knew they did not; dead, alive, comatose, in ten pieces, they would not bat an eyelid, so to speak. That in itself would be enough to assure him they were probably not even paying attention to his limping by, but still... The suspicion lingered.

Breakdown headed for the medbay. He had been informed on the flight back to base that Knock Out was all ready making preparations for his return. Whether that meant he was in on Starscream's scheme, too, or the clever Seeker managed to file a different story. Either way, when he arrived, Knock Out was fussing about with his instruments. Calm, calculated, eying each before setting them aside or away.

Breakdown rubbed at a scar along his cheek. "Hey," he said, simply.

Knock Out turned. "Oh!" he chuckled, brushing a hand to his chest. He tsked and wagged a digit at his partner. "You should never sneak up on a doctor, you know." He held up a drill. "Especially when they have dangerous tools in their hands."

Breakdown smiled crookedly. "Sorry to make you work late," he said. Knock Out patted the metal berth; he walked over, slowly climbed onto its surface. "I know you're off shift."

"A medic's work is never done," Knock Out said and sighed, feigning a dramatic edge. He placed the drill aside and approached his patient. "My word," he breathed, carefully touching the empty, jagged optic socket, "they really did a number on you."

Breakdown snorted. "Nothing I couldn't handle."

Knock Out grinned. "That's my mech," he snickered and gently nicked him on the chin. "Though I'm pretty sure it also has something to do with your pain receptors." He thrust a fist against his partner's thigh, who winced from surprise instead of pain. "Being offline and all."

"Hey. I wasn't under the entire time, y'know."

Knock Out just nodded, half-distracted. He moved around the table, assessing his patient's damage. Breakdown watched as he occasionally reached out to touch a dent or tear, pausing to lift his arm then let it drop with a thud, only to move behind him and tap at his head. Breakdown kept quiet; the boss knew what he was doing. The medic returned to his side again, this time with a datapad in hand.

"Externally speaking, your biggest concerns are cosmetic mostly," Knock Out said. He sat the 'pad aside. "Which are _never_ insignificant concerns, mind you."

"That's good..."

"Now," Knock Out hummed, lowering a diagnostic scanner down from above, "let's go a little deeper."

The screen flashed in Breakdown's face, and instantly his vision clouded; his memory core belched out an image, of Silas and his men looming over him with their sneers and torture devices.

"Breakdown!"

Breakdown opened his optic, felt something snap. The light from the screen was gone, Knock Out's face above his, concerned and surprised. "Breakdown," the medic said, slapped him gently on the cheek.

"W-What?" the larger mech swallowed dryly.

"I asked you a question," Knock Out answered, "you were unresponsive before suddenly going into a small fit." He tilted his head. "You don't recall?"

"No," Breakdown murmured. "Was I... Was I out long?"

The medic checked his chronometer. "Less than a klik," he said, "but it shows me you may be suffering psychological damage."

The larger mech scowled. "So I had a flashback? It's normal! This scenery ain't so different from theirs," he snapped. "It's not like I'm gonna be all weird and paranoid from now on."

"I certainly hope not," Knock Out sniffed, "then I would have to find me a new partner." He smirked, showing he wasn't serious. Probably. He reached for the diagnostic scanner again. "In any case, try to relax. Disable your memory core if need be. I don't want to do repairs while you're thrashing and writhing about like a mad mech."

"I'm perfectly fine," Breakdown pressed.

"Hmm."

When the light switched back on, Breakdown forced his optic to keep from closing. Not entirely because he feared the images that might sneak around the dark corners, but... He had to do this. There was no way he was going to let some measly humans get the best of him. Jaw locked and optic staring firmly forward, the scanner flashed twice along his body; once down, once back up, before the medic pushed it aside.

"Good boy," Knock Out purred, "want me to get you an energon pop?"

Breakdown hissed.

The medic turned to the screen beside him, results from the scan flashing before his optics. Once finished, he removed the processed datapad and read it over. Breakdown watched him, slightly wary; Knock Out was silent, occasionally tapping against the 'pad's surface. The larger 'Con could see a blueprint of his structure on the back of the glowing blue object. Finally, with an exhale, the medic sat it aside and smiled. "Well, kid," he smirked, "you're going to be just fine."

"I wasn't worried," Breakdown insisted, "I mean, what could those humans and their primitive tools do to me?"

"Just enough to probably give my a headache," Knock Out chuckled. "As it is," he said, inhaling; his voice shifted to that of a professional. Albeit a very carefree one. "A couple sensory nodes will need to be repaired and there appears to be slight energon edema in your socket." He looked at his patient. "Your optic will need to be replaced, of course, but my scanners show no significant damage to your other neuro or optic nerves and sensors. Your CPU is fit as can be; well, as far as the mechanics go..."

"Don't suggest I'm suffering from some sort of meltdown waiting to happen," Breakdown cursed. He clenched a fist. "It was _just_ a little glitch. I'm sure when you fix me up, I'll be right as rain."

"That's a human saying, you know," Knock Out added. He widened his optics comically, appearing like an owl. "My word, seems the humans infected you more than both my scanners and I could pick up!"

Breakdown snorted. "Just patch me up, will ya, doc?"

Knock Out swished a hand. "You've been a stellar patient in the past," he said, "let's not get uppity and difficult now." He pulled the table of instruments over. "I'm going to disable your - "

Breakdown caught Knock Out's wrist. The smaller mech blinked. "No," he said, sternly, "I want to be conscious for this." He shuttered his optic with a grumble. "Not like I'm scared or anything."

"I don't want to put up with any possible episodes - "

"Nothing is wrong!" Breakdown snarled.

"Whether there is or not, I still don't want to risk getting my head torn off during another fit," Knock Out replied, remaining calm. "And strapping you down would not exactly help with the healing process." He smiled coyly. "Though admittedly it would make things a lot more fun."

Breakdown chortled despite himself. "Don't worry, doc," he assured, relaxing himself, "there won't be a problem."

"Well," Knock Out breathed, spinning a tool in his hand, "your pain receptors are still offline, though some appear to be lacking from energon loss." His thumb slid up the length of the tool, sending a pointed knife-like laser out its end. Breakdown managed to hide his grimace. "So, if it suits you better, I suggest looking away."

But he didn't. He couldn't, and he wouldn't. Breakdown and Knock Out met optics just before he lowered the knife toward his empty socket. His denta grit beneath his frown as the knife sliced away dead optic circuits and nerves, all painless. The sparks and sounds, though, it made his fuel processor twist. Knock Out focused on his work, cleaned away the dead, ruined tendrils.

And for a moment, Breakdown felt as if he were just undergoing some routine repair job. The dozens upon dozens he had from battles in the past. But when the light of the blade caught his optic for the first time, he felt a tremor and then shadows of small aliens made of flesh and bone and blood crawled across his vision.

Before he could react, perhaps as he did before, Knock Out reached over, grabbed his wrist and squeezed. His face remained cool and calm with a tight frown and knitted brows, serious as he kept to his work. "Steady," he said softly, as if he were in a whole other universe. Yet his grip was comforting and warm, different from how detached and cold he looked and sounded now. It made Breakdown uncomfortable, but he relaxed as was the doctor's orders.

The hand remained on his, did not loosen or let go. Knock Out brushed out the rest of the useless debris, specked with chipped paint and metal. He leaned in closer, and Breakdown could feel air cycled from vents breathe against his face. Then the medic pulled back, grinned. "Fortunately for you, partner, there won't be any complications replacing your optic," he reassured.

"Ah, good."

"Starscream informed me of your missing piece," Knock Out said and drifted off across the room. He returned with a new optic, its circuits twined in a braid, yellow and staring through its translucent box. "So I had this prepared." He sat the box down, slowly lifted the optic dripping with fluid from its container. "I think you'll rather like this upgrade. You were due for a check up anyway, what with your clumsiness probably attributed to poor near-sighted vision."

"My optics were fine!" Breakdown whined.

"With this new baby," Knock Out snickered, held up the unblinking optic, "your infrared and scanner technologies will be five times sharper and clearer." He twisted the circuits around his fingers. "I was saving it for your birthday. Pity."

Breakdown rolled his optic. "Let's just get this done and over with."

"One day you'll appreciate my services."

The procedure lasted almost an hour. Knock Out was careful in his repairs, hooking up circuits to their respective sprockets. Making sure everything was done prim and proper. Breakdown felt more and more uneasy as the time passed. He wished the medic could just shove the thing in and be done with it, but it had to be careful and precise. And in the silence, save the noise and clicks of the doctor at work, gave room for that haunting presence. One that was human shaped, one that was not made of fear but something more potent to the mech.

"_Stop_," Knock Out grumbled, "_twitching_." His brows furrowed as he sifted through the wires. "You need to stay still. I don't want to mess this up then go back and re-wire it all over again."

"Sorry," Breakdown murmured, feeling like a scolded child.

Work continued, and Breakdown managed to keep himself steady. Knock Out's voice suddenly flooded out his handiwork. "So," he conversed, "Starscream told me he found you, about ready to pass out on your way back to base."

"That's correct," Breakdown mumbled.

"It's a bit convenient, don't you think? He and a few of his drones were just out and about, practicing some new maneuvers, in the same area you were captured..." Knock Out hummed. His partner didn't reply, single optic turned away. The smaller 'Con smirked. "As long as you don't try to take over my position as second in command, we have no problems."

Well, that was a relief. "No worries there."

"No offense, partner, but you just aren't lieutenant material."

The two laughed softly, shortly, before it was silent again. Knock Out finished the repairs not long after. Breakdown could hardly feel the plating around his optic shift and open as the new eye was set in place, nested in dozens of red and black circuits. But as soon as his faceplates closed, he felt something alert his system. A warning for the new installation. "Accept it like a good boy," Knock Out ordered.

Breakdown did, and a moment later, the optic whirred to life. What was blindness turned to light; the light faded and now Breakdown could see with perfect clarity. He blinked a few times, rolled his optic, opened his lids again; it was working perfectly, as if he had never lost the old one. "Try it out," the medic hummed.

Breakdown nodded and activated his infrared vision. Indeed, the new optic saw things sharper and clearer compared to the old. Scanning was easier, quicker and he could see a farther distance than before. And what was near him did seem much more coherent than in the past. Knock Out swept into his line of vision. "What do you think?" He quickly raised a hand. "No, don't tell me." He paused, purred. "You _love _it and I am the best medic in all of the Decepticon fleet. I can also give the Autobot CMO a run for his credits." He swooned, brushed a hand to his chest as he stuck up his chin. "Say no more, for I know I am the most outstanding in my field."

Breakdown chortled. "Yeah, it's cool."

Knock Out scowled. "This is what artists must feel like: all that effort and energy and no appreciation!" he sighed loudly, exaggerating his disappointment. Breakdown knew him long enough to know when he was seriously offended and just playing around. The medic was joking, mostly, and yet Breakdown felt a little... guilty.

The medic gathered his buffer and gently pushed his partner back down on the bed. "Let's get those nasty dings and dents out," Knock Out said, the buffer coming to life with a hiss.

It didn't take very long before Knock Out had worked out the superficial damage. Yet he seemed more precise and focused with this task than replacing an optic. When he was finished, he quickly sat the buffer aside and picked out a small mirror. "Behold," he declared, holding the mirror to Breakdown's face, "there is beauty in the beast."

The scars and tears were gone. His face and helm looked perfect. There was even a shine to his plating. "You're the best," he said, touching around his new optic.

Knock Out pulled the mirror back, stuck up his nose. "I'd say flattery would get you nowhere - "

" - But with you it gets you everywhere."

The medic snorted. "No!" he laughed nonetheless. He gently hooked a claw beneath Breakdown's chin, tilted his head slightly. He grinned with relaxed optics. "You're simply stating a fact, that's all." He stepped back, gathering his welder. "Which is why I never understood why people referred to me as a 'braggart,'" he said, welder hovering over his partner's dented chest. "How is one a braggart if they're simply stating the truth? A petro-rabbit has fur; that's a fact. You are best suited for offense in battle and hand to hand combat; that, too, is a fact." The welding light lowered, quickly working on a tear. "So how is it that me stating I am the best at what I do is bragging?"

"I dunno," Breakdown chuckled and shrugged, "you know how some people are."

"Indeed. Tasteless."

A second later, the welder lifted and Knock Out tilted his head. "Deeper than I imagined," he murmured, stroking his chin. He looked to his partner's curious face. "Pop the hood, or so they say."

Breakdown bit his denta together. "Do I really need to?" Knock Out stared, quiet for a moment. And Breakdown knew exactly what he was thinking. "Stop that, I'm fine," he grumbled, and slowly opened his chestplates, "it's just tiring, okay?"

The medic shrugged. "I don't do a half-aft job, my dear," he said. "You'd have to open up one way or another. Even if I needed to break out the dreaded crowbar."

Breakdown smiled weakly. "I don't doubt that. You've got some crazy bedside manners."

"I could conveniently lose my wrench in your chest."

"No thank you."

There had been no flashbacks. Though Breakdown was still a little unsteady as he watched the medic repair him. He tried not to compare his work to the work of the humans. Contrast, rather; Knock Out was helping him, fixing him. He was on his side. He would not tear him apart and sell him on the black market. He wouldn't use his CNA to engineer some weapon of mass destruction. No, right now, Knock Out, looking so collected and focused, wanted nothing more but to get his partner back on his feet with a clean bill of health.

But there was a question on his mind, one Breakdown found he could no longer keep leashed. "Hey," he murmured, the dancing specks of the welder's light in his optics, "did you know what happened to me? I mean..."

Knock Out finished one tear before turning the welder off. He did not look up. "Shortly after reports of your capture had come in, Megatron called a few of us to the bridge to inform us of the news." He powered the welder back on, moved to another cut.

Breakdown felt as if he were standing on the edge of a cliff. "And so you..."

"Went back to my quarters and started packing your things up." The larger mech winced. "I'm kidding," Knock Out chortled. "If you are wondering if I was concerned or frightened, I was not." He lifted the welder, brushed off the half-repaired cut. "Because there was no doubt in my CPU you would return. I knew you would survive."

"How?"

Knock Out looked up at him. "We've been partners for vorns," he replied, "or as Starscream puts it, 'bondmates.'"

Breakdown grunted. "Fragging Seeker..."

"Though the method of your escape was, perhaps, not the most glorious or what I had expected," the medic continued, "you came out of it alive. More or less."

"Yeah, well," Breakdown grumbled, "I woulda gotten out by myself..."

"Eventually."

"_When_ I was ready."

Knock Out sat the welder down. "You know, Breakdown, and I apologize for this," he began, "but you are not suffering from a break down, no." He met his gaze. "I know this won't hinder your power in battle, nor will it haunt you. Not in a sense that traumatic experiences usually would."

"How do you mean?" the larger mech asked, blinked.

"It's not your CPU they defiled," Knock Out said, tapped a digit to his head, "but your pride and dignity."

Breakdown startled. "What? No!"

"You're hurting because you're embarrassed," the medic insisted. "You feel ashamed that you were not only captured by humans, but saved by Autobots as well. And that makes you feel ashamed."

The larger mech sat forward, got into his partner's face. "Bunch of humans and 'Bots are nothing."

Knock Out leaned forward. "Am I to believe you lost your rematch with the big, dumb lugnut? That has to be some sort of insult to injur - " He broke into a small laugh when Breakdown's hand was warningly at his head, as if to crush should he speak any further. "Now, this - lashing out - does not help your case."

"I would have beaten him to a pulp, you know," Breakdown growled, "but in my state-Fah! He only won because I wasn't at my complete strength! I'd say it wasn't a fair fight, but I never did care much for bein' fair in the past."

"Who knows," Knock Out replied, "you two have held this rivalry for some time now." He reached up a hand, removed the one on his helm. "But you have no need to feel ashamed around me," he reassured, "I know that quite often the internal wounds are much more painful and deeper than the external." He shook his head. "In your situation, I could only _imagine_."

"So you're ashamed of me, huh?" Breakdown hissed.

"Not necessarily."

"Then I don't want your pity."

"Admittedly, sympathizing and pitying often go hand in hand or share a very thin line, but I can assure you, I am not ashamed of you nor am I pitying you." Knock Out touched his chest, where not long ago, Starscream had given him a nasty scar. "I know your pain enough to emphasize. And where I may not be as sympathetic to others, with you it is quite different." He grinned. "For the record, if anyone here should be ashamed, it's Starscream. All those defeats and losses, and the way our Lord Megatron throws him around like a rag doll." He laughed. "It's _him_ I pity, _not_ you."

Breakdown scratched at his cheek. "... Well," he murmured, "I am a little bit... annoyed. With what happened. With... humans and the Autobots."

Knock Out patted his thigh. "It was tragic, but it's something you can use to fuel your fires," he suggested. "Let the shame turn into power. While carrying a grudge is awful on the complexion, it has its merits."

Breakdown chortled. "Trust me," he said, pounding a fist into his hand, "I intend to repay the humans and Bulkhead three fold. And with interest."

"You can be so corny."

"You can be a drama queen."

"I simply see beauty in things that you would not, and so when you ruin them, of course you would not understand my pain."

"Would you really replace me?"

Knock Out blinked and looked up. Breakdown appeared fine, stoic, but there was a nervous edge in his optics. The medic paused a moment to think. "Of course I would," he said seriously. He flicked back on the welder. "But you would do the same. That is how war works. What you lose, you must replace."

The larger mech bowed his head slightly. There was no denying Knock Out was right. In the end, should they part ways or one were to perish, they would go on. Though he wasn't quite sure he'd find a partner. The circumstances had been different with Knock Out and why he was serving as his aide. Still, there was no doubt the medic would quickly find a replacement. And while it made sense, it hurt, he supposed. And that brought him even more shame; he shouldn't be hurt with what was only logical, with what he would do in return.

"But."

Breakdown looked up. Knock Out took a rag to one newly repaired knee plate. "I would miss you," he said. He smiled wryly. "I suppose."

Breakdown huffed. "A mech of so many pretty words and that's how you respond."

"I never declared myself officially a poet, you know," the medic sneered. He stepped back, admired his work then met his partner's gaze. "But why say what is all ready said and well known?"

"You're strangely romantic while being... completely unromantic."

"I do my best, and the best is all I do."

"Breakdown!"

The two mechs whipped around, Starscream's face giant and looming over them from the screen. He looked infuriated, one optic twitching, a trickle of energon at the corner of his mouth. "I would assume by now the repairs would be finished, unless Knock Out has suddenly lost his expertise," he snarled.

"The big 'bot's ready to go, sir," the medic chuckled, ignoring the insult.

"Then you've no excuse for lingering around idle any longer!" the Seeker spat in Breakdown's direction. "I told you to clean up your mess!"

Breakdown thought a moment - "Oh, the energon leak?" he asked. He tilted his head. "Did someone trip or something?"

Knock Out tapped the corner of his grin. "Commander, looks like you got yourself an ugly little cut there. How did that-"

"_Go clean up your mess_!" Starscream shrieked before cutting the transmission.

* * *

><p>END<p>

Time measurements: klik is a minute, vorn is about a century or more.

Yeah, I didn't want to go with anything mushy or shit. Cute as the concept is, I kinda wanted it to be more Decepticon-esque, where KO isn't like running into his arms and sobbing and birthing kittens from terror and relief and shit. And no, lol, I had no intention to link the title of this fic with "Unbreak My Heart."


End file.
